Finally Finished..."The Love Blogger"

“the auditorium where the press conference was scheduled to take place had a maximum occupancy of 300 people, which meant only the who’s who in the world of entertainment journalism had been invited to what was being billed merely as “the event”. brian wilson, known the world over as “the love blogger”, was to make a rare appearance due to the expected release of his second book entitled “as i lay dying”; a line he had borrowed from a faulkner work. his first book “pandora’s heart-shaped box”, titled as a tribute to his favorite band, had been a collection of pieces he had written and compiled over the initial two years of his blog’s existence, and it had been a tremendous success: having garnered both critical acclaim from its reviewers and financial prosperity for the company that published it, as well as its author. and because of that success, “as i lay dying” had become the most eagerly anticipated book in years, perhaps even decades; its release date seemingly a national holiday in some countries, where non-essential government offices were planning to remain closed and many companies were going to give their employees the day off. the date, etched in everyone’s mind was april 14, 2014, and 4-14-14 was fast approaching.

to no one’s surprise, the press conference was slated to start at exactly 4:14 pm on april 13, 2014; the day before “as i lay dying” was supposed to hit bookshelves in every major retailer and online shopping site. it wasn’t a terribly creative idea, but the book was set to start being sold in less than 8 hours and nobody involved in the ad campaign for it felt it necessary to hype up the publicity surrounding its release by doing anything extravagant. there would be no red, white and blue fireworks exploding in the background of the statue of liberty celebrating “the next great american novel”; no 100-foot banner of brian wilson holding a copy of his latest creation draped from the top of the eiffel tower lauding, what seemed poised to become, the next global phenomenon. there wasn’t any need for such outrageous stunts; everyone already knew about the book, and it had been decided that a spectacle would have constituted overkill in terms of exposure and probably have done more to hurt the publication than to help it. they had even tried to nix the author’s press conference; it was only due to his fierce insistence and their piqued curiosity at what someone, who only gave glimpses into his mind through his writing, would have to say when given a microphone for his words and an audience eager to hear them that it had been allowed to proceed.

at 4:14, the doors burst open and two burly ex-football player types in dark suits and sunglasses entered the auditorium, talking loudly to whoever was speaking to them in their earpieces, as if to announce their presence to the awaiting crowd. not that anyone cared, everyone in the audience were too busy making their final preparations for the press conference: journalists organizing their notes and going through the list of questions they had been instructed to get answers to, photographers settling into comfortable positions where they could get front page worthy photos of the author as he made his announcement, whatever it may be; no one paid them any attention at all. they were followed by two more men, wearing the same types of dark suits and shades, who made quickly their way towards the podium. a few seconds later, dressed in a black “armani” two-button suit with silver pinstripes, white shirt and silver tie; and surrounded by four more ex-nfl players turned bodyguards, brian wilson came into the room amid a sea of flash bulbs and chatter amongst the people gathered there. as he walked, his “armani” wireframe glasses began to slide down off his nose and he nervously pushed them back up onto his face; he was anxious, not used to the kind of attention this press conference was bringing him, and he could only think about what he was going to say and the sense of relief he would feel when he said it and this ordeal was finally all over. his four accompanying bodyguards separated; a couple going to the left of the microphones and the others going to the right, leaving the celebrated author isolated in the middle: with all eyes on him, awaiting his every word.

there were more camera flashes as the room began to quiet and soon all that could be hear in the place was slight feedback when brian wilson inched closer to the microphone. he looked over the room for a few moments; then began to speak…

“fuck love.”

and with those words he retreated from the podium, following the path he had taken into the auditorium back out of it; leaving the entire crowd in stunned silence.”

sometime in early '12, just finished today.